


Surface and Symbol

by Amarissia



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 18:35:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1195290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amarissia/pseuds/Amarissia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zack poses for an erotic painting, for an artist who is understandably tempted. Rated M for touching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surface and Symbol

**SURFACE AND SYMBOL**

The visitor was fascinating, Zack had to admit. In the exclusive and confined world of ShinRa, they rarely saw civilians outside of missions. And Geiju Tsuka was charismatic, floating around the party from guest to guest and charming even the most stoic SOLDIER. As only befits a famous artist, Zack supposed, Geiju's presence and movements were full of vitality and flamboyance, his musical voice and twinkling eyes a contrast to his subdued black suit and silver jewelry. Everyone present seemed to be a fan, though of course some of them were probably only being polite. Geiju was, after all, a personal friend of the president. 

Quite attractive, too. Not that Zack had eyes for anyone but the man who stood beside him, sipping champagne with one hand and absently stroking the 3rd Class's hair with the other. 

"Having fun, Puppy?" 

"It's okay," Zack said with a shrug. "How come Sephiroth's not here?" 

"He's already given his 'no' for the year. Maybe he's concerned that all of us here might try to change his mind," Angeal said with a soft laugh. 

Every year, Angeal had explained the previous week, Geiju requests that the general sit for a painting, and he hasn't yet given up despite the steady stream of polite refusals. The artist continued to visit ShinRa and every so often found other subjects among its employees, but he joked in interviews that he would not stop pursuing Sephiroth as long as he lived, for without him his greatest masterpiece could never be done. 

"I'm surprised ShinRa hasn't ordered the general to do it," Zack whispered to his mentor. "I can't think of a better advertisement for SOLDIER." 

"I'd like to see them try. I don't think any threat of theirs can annoy Sephiroth more than the thought of encouraging his fan base further." 

Zack snickered at the thought. "Does Geiju only do nudes?" 

"And semi-nudes. You can guess, I'm sure, which are the more popular." 

Indeed, of the many copies of the artist's works displayed around the large room, there was not a single fully-clothed subject. Most were male, completely naked or posed so that only one or two parts remained unseen, and here and there was a female or two, with prominently displayed breasts. One especially popular piece showed a pair of young women, appearing to be doing something that greatly puzzled Zack, as neither possessed a piece of anatomy that was required for it. Zack had wrinkled his nose at it and pronounced it perverted. Angeal had smiled indulgently and said, "It's art, Puppy. Art is incapable of perversion." 

"You're behaving well," Angeal complimented him now. "Thank you. I was afraid you'd spend the entire evening giggling." 

"A year ago, I would have," Zack admitted. He liked to think he had grown up a great deal since his time as a cadet. 

"A year ago you would have been too young to attend." 

"And too young for what you're gonna do to me later?" Zack teased, and Angeal smiled and fondly brushed his fingers down the boy's cheek. 

True, he was looking forward to the night as he always did, when the eyes of the world disappeared for a while and he could drown himself in Zack, for whom he felt a love and a desire he had not known was possible. They would stay just a little longer. Angeal was a fan of Geiju's, after all, and his position required he put in more than a brief appearance... 

Angeal held back a smile. This was a game they played. Zack would wait until he was distracted and try to sneak the Buster Sword off of its magnet sheath. It never took Angeal long at all to notice, but he liked to wait as long as possible, and just when Zack's fingers were closing around the hilt - 

He seized the boy around the middle and pulled him to his side, tickling his ribs lightly and making a scolding "tsk, tsk" noise as Zack yelped in surprise and giggled. What was wrong with him? Sometimes he felt like a man in a mid-life crisis (though he was only twenty-five) shacking up with a barely-legal bit of hot stuff (which he was, in fact). Zack just made him feel younger, and happy, and uncaring of who saw them acting like newlyweds. His fellow 1sts occasionally teased him with jokes about cradle-robbing, but to a one they were fond of Zack and considered him a good influence. 

"Serves you right," the boy laughed into his shoulder, "for wearing your sword to a party." 

"It's a precaution, in case I have to defend your honor," Angeal teased back. 

"Ha, or maybe you're afraid Geiju will give up on Sephiroth and start chasing _you_. Why didn't _you_ say yes when he asked you to pose?" Zack felt quite certain it wasn't out of modesty; SOLDIERs learned early on not to be reticent about showing their bodies. 

"Because I enjoy _looking_ at his work, I have no wish to be part of it myself. I made that quite clear to him." 

"Not clear enough," Zack said in a sing-song voice. "He's coming over here." 

Geiju approached with a smile. "Commander Hewley, nice to see you again." 

"Likewise. I've been greatly enjoying your latest works." 

"Thank you." The artist's eyes flickered to Zack. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure." 

"This is my apprentice, Zack Fair, 3rd Class," Angeal said, snaking his arm around Zack's waist and squeezing to make the nature of the relationship clear. 

The boy rolled his eyes, always both pleased and annoyed by the elder's displays of dominance and possession. "Hi. Call me Zack." 

"Understood. I much prefer being addressed by my given name, too. Are you enjoying the party?" 

"Yes," Zack said quickly, using his guileless grin to cover the not-quite-truth. "Your paintings are really cool." 

"I'm glad you think so." Geiju hesitated, glancing quickly at Angeal. "Would you mind if I asked how old you are?" 

"Seventeen," Zack answered somewhat warily. He knew from experience that some people reacted to this fact with disapproval of his and Angeal's relationship, and that bothered him. Eight years might be a big difference, but what was age to what they felt for each other? 

Zack saw with relief (and some confusion) that Geiju actually seemed happy with the answer. "Would you consider sitting for me?" 

"You mean...pose for a painting?" Geiju nodded. "Uh, I don't know. Your stuff is so, um...kind of..." 

"Sexually explicit," the artist kindly finished for him. "Yes, there's no getting around that. If it helps, what I have in mind for you doesn't involve total nudity. I am visualizing something very erotic, though, that's my style." 

Zack blushed and bit his lip. Angeal tried to keep from frowning, not ever liking the reminder that other people were free to "visualize" Zack in any way they liked. 

"It sounds interesting," the 3rd Class admitted, "but I don't know if I'd like everyone being able to see me like that." 

"Well, how about this?" Geiju proposed. "I'll promise the painting won't be displayed. I'll give it to you, as a thank-you." 

"What would I want with an erotic picture of myself?" the boy laughed, and Geiju joined in. 

"You could give it to someone special. A fan of my work, perhaps?" 

Zack looked at Angeal, unsure if he was open to this or thinking of impaling the artist on an ice sculpture; it was hard to tell from his expression. "Angeal? You know I won't do this if it bothers you, right?" 

"It's entirely up to you, Puppy," the 1st said sincerely, pausing to press a kiss into his hair. "I don't have a problem. But Geiju, surely it doesn't profit you to create something you cannot show or sell?" 

"Oh, the joy of my work is in the doing of it, not the profiting. We'll call this a practice for me, a benefit to my soul rather than my reputation or wallet. I've done such a thing a couple times in the past. Some of my best pieces are hidden away in private homes, unknown to the world, but I still experienced great joy in executing them. What do you say, Zack?" 

"Well, okay, I'll try. I should warn you, though, I'm not good at staying still for long periods of time." Angeal laughed softly in agreement and Zack pouted and shoved him. 

"That won't be a problem. As I keep telling Sephiroth, my methods are very modern, easy on the subject. All I need to do is position you, then I'll film you for a short time from several different angles, and I do the painting from the footage. I'll only require ten minutes or so." Geiju turned his gaze to Angeal, very aware that - fan or no - this man could kill him with one finger. "Let me assure you, Commander, that these sessions are completely professional affairs. Any intimate relations I have with my subjects come _after_ the work is finished." 

He laughed weakly, then gulped when Angeal didn't join in. "And of course that won't happen this time. You have my word." 

"And mine, if you need it." 

"You know I don't," Angeal murmured. 

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" 

"I'm the one getting an erotic painting of you," Angeal smiled. "I believe I am profiting from this more than anyone." 

_zfzfz_

President Shinra, thrilled to help out (and curry favor with) his famous friend, offered Geiju the use of an unoccupied laboratory room for this project, so Zack was able to do his sitting in a fairly familiar environment, without having to leave Midgar or even ShinRa. As he lay waiting for instructions, he thought of how easy this was and how silly he had been to worry about it. 

Geiju had been set up and ready for him when he arrived, greeting him with exuberance and an eagerness to begin. A layer of gray mats had been placed near the center of the floor on a raised platform, with video cameras aimed at this spot from all four directions around, and one above and pointing down as well. They were connected to five monitors at a temporary viewing station where Geiju would sit and record. Quite high-tech, as he had promised. It sure beat having to stay still for hours. 

Zack had asked in advance if he should wear anything in particular, and been told to simply come in his normal uniform. At Geiju's request, he then took off his magnet sheath and belts and lay down on his back on the mats, waiting for further instructions while the cameras were switched on and the lighting adjusted. It was made to shine on him in such a way that it made clear every line of his body and thread of his clothing without being overbright or blinding, and the rest of the room was left in varying degrees of dark and dim. 

"Are you comfortable, Zack?" Geiju asked as he approached and kneeled down beside him. 

"Yeah, I'm good." 

"All right. Um, look, I won't touch you more than I have to, but it's important that I get everything just right..." 

"It's okay, really. Go ahead." 

With permission granted, Geiju carefully and deliberately took hold of the hem of Zack's sleeveless black sweater and drew it up to reveal his flat, toned stomach. Rather than fold the fabric neatly, he tugged and arranged it so it looked casual, like it had been shoved out of the way in a hurry. His hand sensed the nearby warmth of the soft white skin and seemed very determined not to accidentally touch it. 

Zack's faithful heart and devotion pre-disposed him to monogamy, and he was consciously interested in being intimate with no one but Angeal. But he was also very young, in strange and darkly sensual surroundings, having his clothes adjusted by an attractive man who was well-known for only painting subjects he found beautiful and desirable. The thought of the finished work and Angeal liking it was the icing on the cake, though Zack didn't much want to think of anything white and fluid at the moment. 

Growing hyper-sensitive and worried, he started when Geiju touched his zipper. "Zack? Is this not okay?" 

"No, it is, it's just, um, I kinda have a...problem." 

The man laughed, kindly, with no hint of derision. "It isn't a problem, it's exactly what I need. Can you hold on to it? Not literally, I mean." 

Zack laughed nervously, though he was relieved. "Uh-huh." 

Geiju proceeded to unfasten the SOLDIER-issue pants and carefully slide them and the underwear down almost to the knees. Very nice, he thought analytically, the boy was beautifully-made in every respect, and the tendency of mako to inhibit and kill off the growth of hair follicles below the neck was a great boon, allowing every inch of the skin to be seen clearly. The illumination played perfectly on its smoothness, the whole effect was rather like a young nymph bathing in the light of a bright moon. The erection had swollen Zack to just the right size, and Geiju could hear that his breathing had sped up just slightly. Perfect, all of it, all of him. 

"Lick your lips, please, keep them wet. Excellent." The shine of saliva on the boy's pink mouth lent itself well to one's imagination. "Now I'll tell you what I need you to do." 

"Keep still?" Geiju was irrationally thrilled that Zack's voice was unsteady. 

"No. I want you to close your eyes - " A pity, they were so lovely, but the angle would make them impossible to render faithfully anyway. " - and put your legs a little closer together, like this." 

He nudged the young SOLDIER's muscular thighs inward, so there was just enough pressure from the sides to lightly stimulate him. Zack shut his eyes and groaned softly, almost inaudibly. _Commander Hewley would kill me,_ Geiju told himself, until the refrain repeated without thought and had a life of its own. Angeal's intimidating figure and death, only those threats were enough to keep his hands and mouth safely back. _Commander Hewley would kill me Commander Hewley would kill me..._

"Now," Geiju said, pausing to clear his dry throat. "I want you to imagine the person you want most is with you. His hands are close, but not close enough. His body hovers over you but will not let you feel its weight. You are feverishly mad for his touch. He whispers to you to stay just as you are now, but you can't keep entirely still. I want you to tremble. I want you to...writhe." 

Zack was already moving as requested, lips slightly parted and half-unconscious of it all. 

"Very good. Arch your back a little, and let your head fall from side to side. Very good. Now just keep it up as long as you can." 

Geiju stumbled on his way back to his seat behind the monitors and hurriedly jabbed the 'Record' button. He sat down carefully, very conscious of his own 'problem' that would doubtless only get worse as he watched. Well, it would not be the first time he had worked with a hard-on. 

Zack had a vivid imagination; it was one of the contributors to his short attention span. It was easy, therefore, to visualize Angeal's face above him as it had been so many times, to believe that the warm touch of the light was actually Angeal's hands, teasing him until he could go without them no longer. Everything in Zack that was self-conscious and uncertain melted away under Angeal's loving eyes, and uncaring for propriety he undulated against the firm mats, rolling his hips, arching his back, letting his head loll like a sleeper's. 

His hands left faint imprints of sweat as he clutched the surface he lay on. His breathing was uneven and audible, the sound of arousal, and somehow he shivered, even in all this warm light. All of his body's heat was concentrated in one place...Zack spread his legs just a little to ease the pressure. Good thing Angeal often made a game of keeping him on the edge like this, or the wait would be impossible. 

_Oh, he better not try that tonight,_ Zack thought vaguely. 

Nearby, Geiju lost feeling in one of his hands and quickly loosened his grip on the chair's arms. He supposed it was good for him as an artist that he never stopped being affected by his subjects, but Gaia this one was really straining his admittedly loose ethical guidelines. And his instinct for self-preservation. And his pants. He shifted to find a more comfortable seat. This would surely be one of his greatest works...a pity it could not be exhibited. He was consoled by the thought of the stunning video footage he was getting. There was certainly no reason he could not keep and enjoy _that_ for himself. 

Regrettably, the main screen's timer read nearly nine minutes - had it truly been so long? Keeping Zack longer than promised would cause unwelcome suspicions - _Commander Hewley would kill me,_ Geiju's mind continued to drone helpfully - and the nymph was probably getting tired. A little longer, just a little longer...sadly, the young one apparently was not going to come as they sometimes did. As near to the edge as he was, he was keeping just enough control. What would it be like if Geiju just let this go on, filmed for as long as Zack - a SOLDIER used to following orders - allowed? 

He might merely exhaust himself and lay drained, hard still but too weary even to react to it. Or - oh, how delicious - maybe he would be so desperate that Commander Hewley would be briefly forgotten, and he would welcome the skilled hands of a man who was, after all, an expert in making and shaping beautiful things. What he could do on the canvas of that slender body...his tongue would be his brush, painting firmness into the boy's nipples, his hands would guide Zack into utter abandon, making him weep and beg before kneading the flesh all over. Then, with his hands full of the lovely one's seed, Geiju would massage it into the helpless, quivering form, all the while whispering reassurances that it had been only for art, for beauty, and there was nothing more innocent. 

"Please..." Was that only his longing, or had Zack spoken? 

Geiju moved closer to kneel at his side once more. The sight was mesmerizing no matter where he observed it from, like a pleasure-boy performing for his master, or even more so a pure young dreamer being gently ravaged by a succubus. He wanted to touch him everywhere, but restraint allowed him only to lay his open hand on Zack's head and stroke the black spikes. They were like threads of satin through his fingers, and Zack tilted his head back in response, moaning. 

"How...much...longer..." 

Truthfully Geiju needed no more, but the temptation was too great. "Just a little more. You're doing perfectly." Unable to resist, he added, "Commander Hewley is a very lucky man." 

Zack smiled through his gasping. "I love...him..." 

"I see well why he guards you so jealously. Your lips have dried...here, let me." Stupid, stupid, Geiju railed at himself, but his thumb penetrated the slightly open mouth and met the tongue, gathered some of its wetness. Zack made a noise of refusal, but calmed when Geiju withdrew and moistened the pouting lips without lingering. 

That was excusable, one minor slip, but before he knew it his thumb was inside again and he was whispering "Suck on it, just a little". Zack's features scrunched up, so chilldlike, and he started to shake his head. 

"Just a few times, please, almost done, you're doing so good..." 

Hesitantly, the shining petals pursed around the probing digit, giving it a handful of low-pressure squeezes. Maybe it was Zack's age playing on the artist's fantasies, making him wonder shamefully if he could get the boy to suck his own thumb for the cameras. Zack was only just old enough to be one of his subjects, he had never taken on one so young. Damn, the boy was getting agitated, pulling away from his hand. 

"Please, I need..." 

_Anything, angel, the safety of my neck be damned._ "Tell me what you need," Geiju whispered. 

"Can I...open..." 

It was too much to hope for that he was referring to his legs. "Go ahead." 

The eyes that fluttered into sight were like pools of rainwater reflecting a pale sky, disturbed by ripples of lust, heavy with arousal. "Sir, would you...please..." 

"Yes?" Geiju pressed his palm to the SOLDIER's inner thigh, and Zack jerked away, looking embarrassed. 

"...let me go, please?" 

The artist withdrew and sat back on his heels, forcing a smile. It's better this way, he told himself, before he disgraced his famous name further. "Of course, Zack, of course. I've got what I need." 

The young man was greatly relieved and allowed Geiju to help him up and steady him, while frantically pulling up and refastening his pants. The black sweater fell back into place, and just like that, all that lovely skin was hidden away again, for Commander Hewley's eyes only. Zack smiled uneasily, blushing to recall his performance. 

"Zack, I hope I wasn't too...that is, I hope you won't, ah..." 

"We're good," the SOLDIER said hastily. "That was, um, interesting. Thanks." 

"Thank _you_ , Zack. Go on, go to Angeal." 

The young man began to hurry away (Gaia, that mako stuff made them fast), and paused for a moment at the door. "Uh, if Sephiroth asks what it was like, I'll put in a good word for ya," he murmured, and he was gone. 

Geiju smiled. He was exhilarated and inspired, he would begin this work at once. He glanced down at the patient bulge in his black pants. Well, perhaps not at _once_. __

zfzfz

Angeal was reading in bed when Zack came in, flushed and panting with his eyes bright and his pants already half off. Suspicion about what he may have been asked to do was eased by the realization of how hard he was, how long he must have been made to wait for release. That was good, Geiju was his favorite artist, after all, his sudden and violent death would have been a shame. 

"How did it go, Puppy? You must be tired." 

"Tease me tonight and I'll kill you," Zack growled, and pounced, now completely nude. 

Angeal caught him easily and flipped their positions, so he was on top and pressing into the young SOLDIER. "I can't wait to see the painting," he whispered. 

"Fuck the painting," Zack groaned. 

"I hope I'm never _that_ desperate." 

Zack wept with relief as Angeal filled him at last and the bed began to rock them both to the fulfillment they craved. The boy was maddening in his arousal, very nearly impossible to resist. Angeal decided, in the back of his mind, that he would keep the painting where no one but himself could look at it.


End file.
